


Bedframes

by neaf



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neaf/pseuds/neaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes they would lie entwined for hours, unmoving, just resting in the stillness until a kiss was pressed to skin and stirred a hunger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedframes

Darren loved to lie on top of Chris, something about having the warmth underneath him, wrapped around him. Like his bones were a bedframe, like his body was safe there.  
  
Chris loved having Darren on top of him, the weight of a man holding him down, it was what he looked forward to most in the swaps of evening and a.m. traffic sounds winding through their windows.  
  
And sometimes they would lie entwined for hours, unmoving, just resting in the stillness until a kiss was pressed to skin and stirred a hunger.  
  
That night Darren had stretched Chris out underneath him on the floor with long, deliberate movements - and Chris obeyed the orders of Darren’s hands, heat burning low inside at the thrill of Darren’s unyielding stare and commanding fingertips.  
  
Chris lowered his eyes to the hand that had found his hip - the thumb tucked ever so slightly into the front of his jeans, stroking the exposed strip of belly in slow but firm movements, and gradually sinking lower.  
  
His breath caught in his throat, and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. Darren leaned down, and gently brushed his mouth against Chris’s, capturing a lower lip and tugging on it gently. It was words without sound, a reminder. _You’re mine._  
  
The kiss was slow, and teasing, until Chris couldn’t bear it. He pushed harder and wound his hands in Darren’s hair, pulling him down. Darren’s mouth was rough and needy, tasting him and pressing down with a fierce kind of hunger. Even if he couldn’t see it, he could feel the stubble along Darren’s jaw as he kissed lightly against the bone. Could feel the strength in the fingers that moved in firm, teasing circles just above his groin.  
  
He groaned as Darren pressed harder still, hand slowly closing around him, finger by finger.  
  
“Ohhh…”  
  
He felt Darren smile against his skin as the strokes grew faster, and longer. He whimpered so quietly it was barely a noise, and found himself jerking up into Darren’s hand. He felt the pull at the button of his jeans, and the cold twinge of the zipper as it passed over flesh. And Darren’s hand, again, under his shirt, pushing it up.  
  
“God… Darren…”  
  
He didn’t listen, but grazed his teeth gently down the soft skin below Chris’s navel, receiving applause in the tiny noises Chris made. Enough, Darren decided, and pushed his thumb slowly across the underside of Chris’s cock before sliding his mouth and tongue over the head.  
  
“Ungh… oh…”  
  
Chris’s hands were in Darren’s hair, twisting tendrils between long, thin fingers, moving with the rhythm. He watched Darren - watched his mouth move over and down, and the glisten his lips left on skin. Darren dragged his palms over hip bones, pushing Chris down while his mouth drew him up, again and again, tongue tracing hard circles from base to tip. Chris moaned, deep and low. Darren’s hands mapped lines down flesh, thumbs dragging hard strokes up from the base of his cock, and Chris couldn’t breathe.  
  
When Chris finally came, he barely made a noise. Darren slowed his movement to a final, long stroke and watched as Chris’s head tipped back - eyes shut, mouth drawing in tiny, punctuated gasps of air.  
  
Darren wiped at his mouth lazily with a sleeve, watching Chris settle into stillness. His lips curled at the edges with a small but satisfied smile as he rolled off, and onto his back.  
  
Fumbling, Chris eased himself back into his pants, and finally crept over to rest his head on Darren’s chest. Darren lifted a hand to brush the hair from Chris’s face, and left it there, gently stroking behind his ear.  
  
They lay still for a long time - remembering how to breathe again - Chris’s face pressed against the twisted, faded folds of Darren’s shirt. Silence settled in, with the occasional whistle of wind a reminder of just how cold it was outside.   
  
All at once he was grateful for the warmth against his cheek, the hand resting in his hair, and the bedframe of the body beneath him.


End file.
